


Caught

by Dira Sudis (dsudis)



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-25
Updated: 2010-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:25:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from "Bounty Hunter."  <em>Fraser probably thought all kids were good, deep down. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> This story was posted January 18, 2004.

Ray gave up on yelling as soon as the kids' footsteps turned the corner and faded out of his hearing. After all, if somebody actually did let him out of the handcuffs, he'd have to go and find those brats and resume babysitting. If he was still locked to a pipe in interrogation room two, on the other hand, he was pretty much off the hook.

He slid down the wall, working his cuffed wrist around and down so he could sit in the corner with his hand at his side. He stretched out his legs, and moved his free arm behind his head to cushion it from the wall. He wondered if he could sleep through the ringing phones and arguing voices and occasional bursts of kid-induced chaos and the nasty vibe that permeated the station today. It was worth a try.

He closed his eyes and tuned everything out, no different from lying in his bed and filtering out the sirens and the neighbors and the traffic--well, no different except for the hard cold floor putting his ass to sleep, and the cold metal on his wrist, which was more disconcerting than he would have expected. It wasn't like he didn't always have a bracelet there, but cuffs were different, cuffs said You've Fucked Up in a very distinct way, right through your skin.

So Ray wasn't asleep when, about a foot to his left, Welsh said, "Y'know, Vecchio, if you're not feeling well, you can go crash in the holding cell; it's probably going to stay empty today what with everybody being so sick."

He cracked his eyes open and looked sideways at the lieu. "Sorry, sir. I would, but--" He slid his wrist up a little, with the accompanying jangle of metal against metal, and Welsh's amused look got even more amused. He hadn't gotten to be lieutenant by not being able to string facts together, so it didn't even take two of the kids running by the door just then, screaming their heads off, for Welsh to know what had happened. Which was nice. Ray didn't really want to explain it--that had been the oldest trick in the book when _he_ was eight, but he'd still been totally snowed. He should've known that Fraser's solemn word that they were good kids wouldn't mean anything--Fraser probably thought all kids were good, deep down.

Welsh shook his head and straightened up and left, but he closed the door behind him, which made it nice and quiet, and Ray really was almost asleep by the time the door opened again, letting in a burst of noise. Welsh came over and set down two cups of coffee on the floor by Ray, then went back and closed the door. Ray didn't say anything, watching as the lieu sat down next to him; when he did, something crinkled in his pocket. "Oh, yeah," Welsh muttered, and pulled out a bag of peanut M&amp;M's. He tore them open, and, politely, offered some to Ray, who picked up the cup of coffee closer to him and held it out. Welsh shook his head, but tipped in a handful of candies anyway. Ray swirled the drink awkwardly, left-handed, and took a sip--not bad.

"So I'm thinking," Welsh said, "we just sit tight until Fraser gets back, hopefully with that bounty hunter, and takes those kids out of here. Or until the flu blows over, and then I can maybe order one of my detectives to do something about them."

Ray nodded, and took another sip of his coffee. "Or until the kids set the place on fire," Ray suggested. "You'll get me out if that happens, right?"

"Hey, do I ever let my detectives down?"

"No, sir."

Welsh nodded, and crunched some M&amp;M's, washing them down with coffee.

The kids made another pass, only faintly audible, and Ray closed his eyes again and thought fondly of his niece and nephew. In Arizona. They were about the same age as the two younger Morse kids, he thought, and they had never even attempted to handcuff him to anything; they were just excited little voices on the phone, always eager to take their turn talking to Uncle Ray during the semiannual phone call, or little smiling faces in Christmas cards. What had he ever been thinking, thinking he wanted kids?

Of course, his own kids might not have turned out like this--he'd know them well enough not to trust them within a mile of a pair of handcuffs, for one thing. Plus, if you had kids, you had them _with_ somebody, who hopefully could sort of tag team with you, and keep the little monsters off-balance. There had been a second there, when Fraser had conned him into watching them, and was handing them off, that it had sort of felt like that. That was his fatal mistake, Ray thought. That was how he had ended up locked in his own cuffs in interrogation two; he'd succumbed to that split-second delusion that these were something like Fraser's kids, and that, being Fraser's partner, he was sort of responsible for them too, and they would understand that just like he did.

Ray sipped some more of his coffee, and didn't think too hard about how nice that delusion had been, for the second it lasted, before Fraser got out of earshot and all hell broke loose.

That had to be the trick of it, though--have kids with somebody like Fraser, who could be sort of like a partner in the whole deal. Somebody who would always think they were good kids, because he knew firsthand that Fraser's expectations had a way of fulfilling themselves. Somebody who would believe Ray could handle kids, like Fraser had today, for the same reason.

Stella had always said they'd never be able to handle kids.

He couldn't have kids with Fraser himself, of course. But somebody a lot like Fraser. Tall, for instance, and strong, because that was bound to come in handy when wrangling kids--and Ray had to admit, his were bound to be hyper, if only because of all those times his mum had cursed him to have a kid just like himself. And quick and smart, so that there would be at least one parent not, say, handcuffed to a pipe, at all times. And pretty, so the kids would have a fighting chance at looking okay.

Ray drank some more of his coffee, and tried not to think about Fraser being pretty, or what his kids would look like. He was losing the battle pretty badly when the fire alarm went off, and beside him, Welsh sighed and reached into his pocket for his keys. Ray finished the last of his coffee, and hoped like hell that Fraser would be back soon.


End file.
